Scars
by Generation Extant
Summary: The Doctor gives Russell a present for a very special occasion. (This story was originally published from February 10-24, 2010 at Generation Extant dot com.)


"What's this?"

Russell Garamond was still in his tuxedo. After a whirlwind courtship through time and space itself, he and the young miss Colleen Ciradh were married near Russell's hometown in America. As soon as they finished marveling over his pretty new Irish bride, the family immediately pressed how he was able to afford coming back, missing work, a new family, and various other expenses. Russell responded with a smile that he had found a new line of work, and introduced his friend, the Doctor. The strange, rotund man seemed bothered every time he had to shake a hand or make small talk, but not in way that might offend the guests. Of course, there were some guests who just enjoy being offended, but most of them saw the far-off look in his eye and his ever-present preoccupation and chalked him down as one of those eccentric English genius types. You know, the kind who buy a castle and give themselves silly titles…like "the Doctor." But the Garamonds were simple enough folk to be polite to the perpetually distracted man, while secretly hoping that Russell was being paid well. It was no surprise that the newly wedded Garamonds were on their way to a honeymoon that was unlike anything seen on Earth in either of their times. But first…

"Consider it my wedding present to you, Mr. Garamond," the Doctor said with one of his enigmatic expressions. He looked proud, happy, yet… pained.

"What other presents could we possibly need, Doctor?" Russell beamed, "You paid for our wonderful wedding. I got to introduce Colleen to the family, and they loved her, even if they thought she was a little quiet. Who's louder than Americans, though, right?"

That got a nod from the Doctor, complete with eyebrows raised in assent.

"And now," Russell walked around TARDIS central console, "You're giving us an all-expenses tour of the universe for our honeymoon… what more is there?"

The Doctor circled the console, thoughtfully trailing his fingers over the buttons and switches.

"I'll give you something that you'll never find in all the universe…not anymore… Time Lord memories."

The Doctor reached into the breast pocket of his own tuxedo, a tuxedo he felt he hadn't taken off since Vaientaa more than a week ago. He produced a small package, wrapped gently with brown paper and string.

"Many happy returns, Mr. Garamond."

Russell accepted the gift and unwrapped it. At first, he was utterly confused.

"Is this… a cassette tape?"

"I haven't gotten round to upgrading," the Doctor said with a shrug, "You'll find a machine that can process it inside the TARDIS, fourteenth door on the right."

Russell looked at him skeptically.

"Is it a boombox?"

A slight grin creased the round, young-looking features of the strange man.

"Partly," he said with a slight bit of acrimony, "but don't worry about that now… you've got a wedding night and a blushing bride waiting for you, after all. It's not very often you get a second chance at that sort of thing."

Russell flushed a little scarlet around the ears and tucked the cassette tape into his own rumpled tuxedo.

"Colleen's, um… getting ready."

"And you could think of no better place to lounge than here?" the Doctor said with a chuckle, turning a knob absentmindedly.

"Well, you forgot to tell me you'd jettisoned the pool," the Earth doctor said with a smirk.

"Ah, yes… well, you'd have to forgive me an occasional slip of the mind, with all my years?"

"It's not the slips that bother me, Doctor," Russell adjusted his lapels and checked his reflection in the shining central column of the time rotor. His hair was getting long, a little shaggy at parts… but he liked it. Still rail thin, though, no matter how many alien pies and pastries the Doctor shoved at him. Sometimes he wondered if the Doctor was trying to make him as plump as he was… though at his height he'd probably be close to three hundred pounds. Still, he didn't look like a skinny little fool anymore…or at least, he didn't _feel _like one anymore. This time traveling life, what had it done to him? Made him a married man, again, made him happy, made him feel alive… and all just because that strange man wandered into his operating room.

And yet, as he lay in bed later that night, next to his new, softly slumbering wife, he got the idea that somehow, it all seemed just to work too well to all be a coincidence. He rolled over, unable to sleep, and saw his tuxedo jacket draped over a chair. What had the Doctor said? He'd never find it again in all the universe? Perhaps it could answer these questions that are keeping him up at night. Or it could be a recipe for Mandalorian Marmalade. One never could tell with the Doctor. Thankfully, at that moment Colleen rolled over in her sleep, draping a warm, soft arm over most of his torso. With that, all of the secrets of the universe seemed somehow less important… at least for now.

"Colleen, my dear, I do so hate to be a bother at this, such a joyous time in your life…"

The Doctor's voice came over an intercom, jarring both of the newlyweds wide awake.

"For crying out loud!" Russell said with a groan, "can't we have a minute's peace?!"

"You've been in bed for nearly fourteen hours," the Doctor's voice countered, "now, up we go, you're wasting daylight!"

"We're in a time machine!" Russell groaned into a pillow.

"Yes, and if you'd like to stay alive inside said time machine, I suggest you allow your lovely bride to assist me!"

Russell leaned over to comfort his new wife, but found her already up and slipping out of her nightgown.

"Honey," Russell said with a little whine, "You know you don't have to…"

"But I should," Colleen said with her usual common sense, "It's the least I could do for all he's done for us."

Russell sighed and lay back down on the feather pillow, feeling the warmth on her side of the bed fade away. He closed his eyes for what he thought was a moment, but the Doctor's voice awakened him again.

"Don't you have something you want to do, Mr. Garamond?"

"I was just resting," Russell offered a lame excuse.

"I could hear you snoring," the Doctor's voice was patronizing…more so than usual, anyway, "Now hurry, I can't keep your supercomputer of a wife busy for long!"

With a groan, Russell got up and dressed. Supercomputer of a wife… it seemed as if the Doctor was constantly held up on that point, instead of the sweet girl that also shared the body. Then again, it was probably that mindset that kept him a bachelor…at least currently. Russell followed the instructions he'd heard the night before, and entered a small, dark room with a single bare light bulb hanging over a card table. As promised, the table held what looked to be an archaic boombox…at least by Russell's standards.

"I can't believe I'm doing this" Russell muttered as he inserted the cassette and pressed play. For a moment, there was the old familiar silence, followed by half a message.

"-cording? Is it recording? Now? Now?"

A slight blip in the sound told Russell that the Doctor had rewound and re-recorded the tape to make sure nothing was lost.

"You'd think, for all that knowledge he'd understand how to use a tape…"

" ," the Doctor began again, "Hello, Mr. Garamond, and many happy returns on this, your wedding day. Be good to her, boy… she'll need it. Now, if you please, stand to the side of this stereo and avoid touching the faceplate, as it can distort the image."

"Image?" Russell said with a touch of worry. With a whoosh, the room was suddenly filled with an accurate representation of the TARDIS control room, in hologram form, and suddenly Russell was watching a three dimensional and very vivid home-made movie.

From the look of it, it appeared that the camera must have been mounted somewhere on the TARDIS console, thought if Russell knew where he'd still never find it in all the switches and buttons. It was the TARDIS as he first recalled seeing it: green, almost sickly looking, before the Master had been purged from its interior and regained its former austere white shine. Russell began to wonder if this really was the Doctor's memories, or if it was simply a TARDIS security reel, or if it was both, when the Doctor suddenly burst into the room with his usual bravado, flanked by Colleen and, surprisingly, Javis Nine.

"My, my, my!" The Doctor beamed, "The Oligarchs of Triton certainly know how to celebrate!"

"I'll say," Javis replied, hopping into a chair and putting her feet up on the console, "My head's still swimming!"

"At least you minded your manners this time," the Doctor waggled a finger at her, "I was so embarrassed having to apologize for you at Versailles!"

"How was I supposed to know that wasn't for eating?"

The Doctor waved her off with a chuckle, and turned to the reticent Colleen, who was busy picking up the jacket Javis had discarded.

"And what of you, Ms. Ciradh? Did you find the banquet to your Hibernian tastes?"

Colleen creased the jacket neatly and hung it on the coat rack near the door.

"If I may be honest, Doctor…"

"By all means, m'gel!" The Doctor doffed his brown tweed hat. He was dressed as Russell first remembered him: all brown and burgundy.

"Well…the whole affair, if you'll pardon me, Doctor… it was awfully wasteful."

The Doctor's mood seemed to deflate as he sympathized.

"Ah, my dear. How true you are. Functions of that caliber have a tendency to throw about much that could be usefully implemented elsewhere… as always, you are a refreshing dose of reality, if not always a… completely welcome one."

He gave her a wink, and she smiled… slightly. It occurred to Russell that not much changed after he came on board the TARDIS, but it also occurred to him that perhaps it was not necessarily a bad thing. Change, after all, could be for the worse.

"Well!" The Doctor clapped the Windsor cap back on his head and bounded to the console, neatly knocking Javis' feet off with one swift movement and smile, "What sounds nice, hm? Perhaps something quiet, a relaxing respite from the previous festivities, yes? How about…"

He banged a few buttons into position and flipped a switch.

"A nice afternoon in the French countryside?"

The two ladies looked at each other and shrugged.

"Sounds nice, I suppose," Javis muttered.

"I've heard France is lovely," Colleen said quietly.

"Then France it is, then!" The Doctor turned a knob left, then right, then left a little more, then paused. He turned slowly from where he was hunched over the console and regarded his two companions.

"Javis, my dear… how have your studies been going?"

"All right, I guess," Javis shrugged again.

"Your History lessons?"

"All done, I promise," the pugilist rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Then why don't you find us a nice era for an afternoon stroll."

The Doctor slowly let his hand go from the console, trailing it over a few of the buttons, as if trying to entice Javis onward. With a sniff, the New Earth fighter stood up from her chair and shuffled over to the console. She began to fiddle with the knob, back and forth, casting a wary glance every once and a while in the Doctor's direction to see if she was being watched.

"That looks good…I think," she said eventually, "what do I do now?"

"This!"

The Doctor slammed a switch into the "on" position, and the ship lurched into motion through the time vortex. Within a few seconds, the familiar _vworp vworp_sound began to echo throughout the roundish room, and it was near time for landing. Suddenly, an alarm began to sound and the Doctor rushed to the console, frantically trying to readjust.

"No, no no!" he wailed, mashing several buttons with his palm. That seemed to do the trick, as the alarm quieted and the TARDIS began its materialization. However, something odd was happening on the floor of the console room: at first, it was like a shadow, barely visible, but as the ship touched down more and more the thing took shape… and it was in the shape of a man. He was huddled, hands clasped around the back of his neck and knees drawn close to his face. His eyes were screwed up tight, and he trembled awfully as the TARDIS came to a stop. An eerie silence reigned throughout the ship before the Doctor finally ventured forward to touch the man.

"He's unconscious, but alive," the Doctor said, pulling back his hands from the man's neck, "Most likely a severe onset of shell-shock."

"You can tell that just from looking at him, Doctor?" Colleen approached with an extra timid sort of caution. The Doctor placed a finger to one side of his nose and winked.

"Simple deduction, Colleen, m'gel. Look at his socks, what can you tell me about them?"

She looked at the man's nearly-knee length socks.

"They're blue, Doctor."

"Yes, they are," the Doctor said, crouching down to inspect them further, "and you'll actually find that they are not socks at all, but a wrap called 'puttees' used to protect the lower leg during the Great War. Judging from the blue puttees, this gentleman is from Newfoundland, Canada… he's a long way from home, indeed…"

He turned back to Colleen with scholarly air.

"So, from the Great War I can assume two things: one, that he probably mistook the TARDIS for a falling explosive shell and went into a catatonic state, and two… Javis aimed the TARDIS wrong."

The fighter was keeping on the periphery of the little lesson, but found herself drawn into it as a result of the last comment.

"Oi! You yourself said you can't steer this thing worth a…"

"Javis," the Doctor interrupted her, "what did you set the coordinates to?"

"1916, French countryside. Just like you asked."

"And when was the Great War, Javis?"

"1917-1919, concluded with the signing of the Treaty of Paris. I read all those boring books, I should know it by now. We would have been just fine if…"

"Javis…"

There was a bit of a pause while Javis cooled down a bit, and finally, with head hung, muttered darkly:

"I screwed it up, didn't I?"

The Doctor sighed and got to his feet.

"Only a little, Javis. It's all right. Just… go and review the books a little, will you?"

She eyed the Doctor skeptically.

"You sure you're gonna be okay? This guy looks loaded for combat."

"It'll be all right, Javis," the Doctor said placatingly, "I promise. Go and check up, will you?"

Javis stomped off into the TARDIS interior, grunting and growling to herself. The Doctor turned back to Colleen with a smile.

"Well, we haven't made too much trouble. We may have even saved his life, depending on where we landed… and when. Colleen, see that our guest is comfortable, but try not to move him too much. We'll return him to his proper safety as soon as he comes to."

He strode back to the TARDIS console and looked at a viewscreen, chuckling to himself. A thought struck him, and he called back to Colleen, who was busy wadding up her traveling cloak to use as a makeshift pillow.

"By the way, Colleen… what does it say, on his identification?"

"Identification, Doctor?" the Irish girl asked with a puzzled expression.

"Round his neck, dear… take a look."

She did as she was told, and read off the identification, inscribed on red and green patches of fiber.

"Corporal Jonathan "Jack" Garamond, Royal Newfoundland Regiment."

Russell couldn't help but roll his eyes. This all just seemed a little too cute and tidy. The Doctor must have put something together as a little present, a nice little home movie showing what could have been. It's no surprise that he'd know Grampa was in the Great War. In fact, Russell would be surprised if the Doctor_didn't_ know something so trivial. It wasn't exactly invasive, but the Doctor just had a way of finding things out. Either way, he found it very hard to believe that the Doctor had actually met his grandfather. Still, it was a fun little wedding gift.

Until his grandfather sprung to his feet and started shooting.

Armed with a Lee-Enfield service rifle, the young Corporal Garamond opened fire inside the TARDIS. With a shriek, Colleen ducked behind the coat rack, seeking what little cover she could find. As the first round pinged off the wall near the Doctor's head, the time traveler leaped down under the ship's console. Meanwhile, the soldier worked the bolt on his gun and reloaded.

"All right!" he shouted, his terror at the situation mingling with an adrenaline rush, "You dirty Huns, you keep your heads down! I don't know what you did, what kind of dirty Jerry trick this is, but so help me I'll gun you all down where you stand!"

He aimed the rifle and fired again, watching another round ricochet around the TARDIS interior. The bullet bounced back near the entrance and grazed Colleen, who yelped with the surprise and sudden pain. It was at this time that Russell was now convinced that this was no sick game.

"Come on out!" Jack Garamond bellowed, "I don't care if you're the Kaiser, I'll blow your bloody head off!"

He began to reload again, and the Doctor took this opportunity to reach over the console with the sonic screwdriver. With a flick of the switch, Jack's rifle was absolutely useless. He thrashed about with it and swore, hurriedly fixing a nasty looking bayonet on the top.

"Might as well have been firing a Sho-sho," he hissed, brandishing his makeshift spear, "Well, come on out, then! If you'd had guns you'd have shot me by now, so come on out and I'll run you right through!"

With surprising calm, the Doctor stood up from underneath the console and adjusted the lapels of his tweed jacket.

"I do apologize, sir," the Strange Man began, "But I must assure you that you are not our enemy, nor are we yours."

"You speak English pretty well," Jack snarled, "You a spy?"

"Hardly," the Doctor said with a smirk. He flipped a few switched on the console and the machine began humming to life. Russell brandished his rifle again, but the Doctor put his hands up, raising his eyebrows in what he hoped was a gentle, placating expression.

"I'm actually proud to say that I've aided the British forces on several occasions. Of course, I don't suppose you were around at the Battle of Trafalgar… were you?"

"Shut it," Jack barked, "Talking crazy, trying to get me to relax… just another Jerry trick, I bet!"

"I _assure_ you," the Doctor stressed, "that my name has never been, or ever will be, Jerry. I did meet Jerry Rubin once, but the less said about that, the better… Now, if you'd please put the gun down?"

"Why should I trust you?"

"Why shouldn't you?"

Jack took another quick look around, his eyes darting nervously.

"Yes, you're noticing," the Doctor said eagerly, "You're a smart one, I can see it in your eyes, I can see your brain working in your eyes… you know this can't be a German design… you know this can't even be a design from this planet."

"Now that's ridiculous," Jack laughed nervously and raised his bayonet again as the Doctor tried to approach, "You make it sound like some kind of kid's story."

"And who is to say that those stories aren't real?" The Doctor said with a kind smile, "Please, Mr. Garamond, put the gun down…"

It was odd, Russell noted, to hear the Doctor use that phrase and not refer to him.

"Please, sir…if not for me, than for the young lady you've inadvertently wounded…"

Jack spun around with surprise to see Colleen sitting on the floor behind him, afraid to make a sound, a small amount of blood trickling down her arm. Jack immediately sprang to action, offering Colleen his medical kit while keeping his blade trained on the Doctor.

"Here, Miss. If you need any help, let me know. I'm handy with a bandage or two."

He turned to the Doctor again, "You keeping her in here, are you? She your little slave?"

"Nothing could be further from the truth," the Doctor shook his head, "The young Irish girl is here completely of her own volition, as I'm sure she can tell you. Colleen, dear, would you be so kind?"

"Er…"

Colleen, after easily bandaging the wound, flushed scarlet as all the attention was suddenly focused on her. It was just as the Doctor planned. The minute Jack looked away the Doctor struck out with a hand, neatly disarming the soldier with one nasty chop to the wrist. Jack leapt back in pain, grasping onto his hand as if it were broken. The Doctor cast aside the rifle contemptuously.

"What did you do to my hand?"

"Venusian Aikido," the Doctor replied calmly, adjusting one of his burgundy shirt cuffs, "From Venus. The planet."

"Feels like my hand's broken!"

"It isn't," the Doctor responded automatically, "But it will sting for a while. Consider it fair punishment for wounding one of my companions."

Disarmed and outmanned, Corporal Garamond finally surrendered.

"I'm sorry, Miss," he offered an awkward nod to Colleen, who flushed again, "I suppose if you were Huns, you'd have done me in by now."

"That's the first sensible thing you've said," the Doctor hauled him back to his feet, "now, let us get you back to your time."

"My time?"

"It is a time machine, after all," the Doctor said with a small smile, "but I'm sure you won't believe me. Just another 'Jerry' trick."

He walked back to the console and flipped a few more switches.

"I could send you back, you know. Back to Newfoundland, away from this pointless war."

"How did you…?"

"Blue Puttees."

"Ah."

"You've been accidentally materialized on board thanks to the careless steering of one of my companions, and for that I apologize. Would you like to go home, then?"

He pressed a button, and the doors to the TARDIS flew open, showing a picturesque view of the Canadian Atlantic.

"My God…!"

"Not quite," the Doctor said with a tinge of bitterness.

"This… this can't be real…"

"I assure you that _it is._" The Doctor said, getting a little frustrated, "My word, the girl from Black '47 got the hang of this faster than you do. Home or not?"

Jack Garamond gazed out at it, his home. A wind gusted up and rustled all of the munitions he was carrying, and the canteen clinked lightly against a buckle. The young corporal looked down at it with a stern face, a face of duty.

"If it's all the same… whoever you are…"

"I told you," the Doctor quickly doffed his Windsor cap to scratch round his ear, "I'm the Doctor."

"Fine then…Doctor…" the soldier chose his words carefully, "I'd like you to take me back to my unit. Back to the front. I've got a job to do."

The Doctor looked positively shocked.

"…Are you sure? You could very well die, you know…"

"If that's to be, it's to be."

"Back to that hell of mud and blood and mustard gas?"

"Yes, sir."

The Doctor blew out a long breath and tugged at his Van Dyke worriedly.

"Oh well… if you so insist… back to the front we go."

He pushed the button again, and the doors closed. With a few more digitations, the TARDIS was back, near to where Jack had been found. Hell on Earth.

"You'll find your encampment a quarter of a mile to the east," the Doctor pointed into a dingy gray sky, "Just tell them you were separated from your unit, it happens often enough."

"You're telling me," Jack shouldered his pack and moved for the exit, "Just a few days ago, I was stuck in a trench with an officer. Man must have been dead for days. Still, I got this off him, though…"

In a whirl, the soldier turned and had a Wembley revolver pointed at the Doctor's chest. The Doctor's eyes grew wide, almost pleading, and Colleen shrunk from the spot.

"Bet you didn't know I had this," the soldier said with a sad little smile, "For King and Country… I just can't trust you."

At that precise moment, Javis Nine burst back into the console room, completely oblivious.

"All right, Doctor, I got it wrong by a few…"

Garamond pulled the trigger, and a loud bang echoed around the room. The Doctor fell immediately to the floor without a sound, and Colleen couldn't help but scream. Javis, however, is not quite the screaming sort. She sprang into action and landed a punch against Garamond's jaw so hard it split him open to the bone. That rendered him instantly unconscious, and made it easier for Javis to heave him bodily, gear and all, from the TARDIS out into the French wilderness with a snarl. As soon as she closed the door, she rushed to the Doctor's side, where Colleen was shedding copious tears and trying to staunch the bleeding coming from the left side of the Doctor's chest.

"What the hell happened?!" Javis thundered. The Doctor, somehow still conscious, still attempted to keep control.

"It's all right, Javis, it's all right… I'll be fine, just…"

His alien physiology kicked in, putting him into a sort of stasis so the wound could be healed. To Javis and Colleen, however, he appeared unconscious, possibly near death. Colleen began tearing the bandages off her arm and ripping at her dress to make hasty bandages, her tears pouring down onto the body. Javis, beginning to panic, vaulted over to the console and began hammering buttons, switches, and levers.

"Doctor…Doctor…Doctor, damn it! The Doctor needs a doctor! Come on!"

She glared at the time rotor in a rage, her face tinged green.

"You take me to a doctor, you hear me? We've got to save him!"

She smashed an entire array of buttons with her palm, and the TARDIS juddered into life, speeding away through time and space. Russell knew where they would wind up, and he knew which doctor they would find for _their_ Doctor.

Another Garamond. The same family.  
Russell's father never heard anything from his father about the war. He never talked about it. He did, however, carry with him a rather nasty scar on his chin he gained in the war, his only memento. According to the official report, it was an injury sustained by shrapnel after being separated from his unit… but grampa never talked about it. Why?

"It can't be a coincidence," Russell said to the Doctor. It was some time later, and they were both sitting in the console room. The same one Russell had recently seen the Doctor bleeding upon. Of course, the Doctor was fine now, as he always seemed to be. He had sent Colleen to prepare tea, which she went off to do, smiling at her new husband without a care in the world.

"Indeed it can't be, Mr. Garamond," the Doctor was in his current finery: blue shirt, gray vest and trousers, golden camelhair coat, spectators, and chocolate brown porkpie hat. A little bit of a beard seemed to be growing back, as the Doctor had kept it shorn since Kenos.

"When you've seen as much as I have, you begin to stop believing in simple coincidence. For example, your grandmother, Jack's wife, what was her maiden name?"

Russell thought for a moment.

"Gramma Jovanka…why?"

The Doctor cracked a mysterious, mischievous smile.

"And Colleen's ancestors are found in the McShane family. You see, Mr. Garamond… I've had other travelling companions besides yourselves."

"I figured as much," Russell answered drily.

"I first began to notice it at the wedding, you see."

Colleen reentered with the tea cart, and the Doctor waved her over jovially.

"Colleen's surviving family back in Ireland, and yours stateside. The names… that is, my Earth companion names… they all seem to be connected… and I'm beginning to think that it's not just a coincidence. Perhaps there is some reason I choose who I choose to come with me, something that connects them all… connects _us_ all… perhaps it is what I think it might be… and, of course, perhaps not."

Russell gave a wry smile and laughed a bit.

"But I suppose you're going to find out, aren't you?"

He slammed a lever into place, and the TARDIS began to dematerialize.

"There is no greater pursuit than that of knowledge, Mr. Garamond!"

"That sounds like a quote from some great man," Colleen said, pouring the tea into a travel thermos the moment she heard the _vworp._

"It is a quote from a great man!" the Doctor bellowed as the sound got louder, "_Me_!"


End file.
